The Thief Read online

  “I’m glad you suggested boating. I’ve never seen the park from the water.”

  “Nor have I.” Wentworth paused. “That is, I’ve never seen land from a small boat like this, only the steamship from India.”

  “You row as if you’d been doing it all your life. Such confident stroking!” Cyril bit his tongue at the double meaning and turned his blushing face to stare at a thrush balancing on a single river reed.

  “I’m enjoying the exercise. Lord knows I don’t get enough of it.”

  Those healthy arms and shoulders did not hint that was the case, but Cyril held his thoughts on that. “This is a bit of heaven. I feel almost as if I were at Wiltshire. I do miss my family home.”

  “If I may be so bold as to ask, why aren’t you there now? You don’t seem the sort to care about the social whirl of the London Season.”

  Cyril hesitated to answer. He’d said enough already about his distaste for his title. Better not to tell this stranger about his ruined finances that might soon force him to sell Wiltshire. “I shall go soon to oversee the place, but for now, I’m wed to my conservatory. There is no one I’d trust to tend my hybrids during my absence.”

  “I pray you get the results you’re hoping for.” Wentworth pulled again on the oars, and they shot past several fish leaping into the air and landing with splashes. Rings of water rippled in concentric circles. Then several more silver bodies erupted into the air before falling back into their watery home.

  “A mating ritual, perhaps?” Cyril suggested. “Or maybe they are feeding. There are certainly enough mayflies about.” He swatted away the swarm they were rowing through.

  “At least they don’t bite,” Wentworth pointed out.

  The warm afternoon coupled with the steady rhythm of the oars put Cyril into a trancelike state. He trailed his fingers languidly through the water. They looked like minnows moving alongside the boat.

  “May I ask you a question?” he asked at length. “If I’m being too forward, tell me so.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I wondered about this man you mentioned. The one with whom you were close. How did he hurt you?”

  “Ah, that. The gentleman was married. I hoped for a deeper and more permanent arrangement with him. That did not happen. It was not his fault. I was naive enough to still imagine fairy tales might come true.”

  “They never do,” Cyril agreed. “Not for men like us.”

  “I am thankful for the many things he taught me.” Wentworth leveled a gaze at Cyril. “I apologize once more for behaving so skittishly last night. I would like to try again, if you care to.”

  Cyril’s heart pounded as if he were the one plying the boat. “An excellent suggestion. When we’re finished here, perhaps you would accompany me to my house.”

  “In that case…” A single oar splashed in the water and the other dragged as Wentworth guided the craft toward shore. “I believe I’ve enjoyed this fine day to the fullest and wouldn’t mind the cool and quiet of indoors.”

  Chapter Seven

  What in the bloody hell was he doing? He’d suggested meeting in the park to avoid intimacy. The point was to get Belmont interested enough to ask about the gold mine, show him the forged documents, and if he took the bait and asked to invest, demur: Oh no, I couldn’t ask that of a friend. If the mine doesn’t prove out, you might have to wait for a return for quite some time.

  Nothing intrigued rich men more than something they did not possess. Only later would Jody pretend to be persuaded and allow the mark to give him money—and Belmont was a mark, not a person whom Jody should care about.

  Instead, here he was in Belmont’s house once more, kissing the man until both of them were panting. He’d discarded the satchel in the front hall along with his coat and hat. A trail of clothing littered the hallway and drawing room. The lack of servants allowed them the luxury to do whatever they wished, wherever they desired. Belmont must have arranged this lack of proper staffing to give himself more privacy. Probably Jody wasn’t the first man he’d ever brought home, despite his words to the contrary.

  Jody removed Belmont’s unbuttoned waistcoat and slid his hands under the loose shirt, pushing up the soft cotton until he could lean to kiss the man’s lightly haired stomach. Warm flesh rippled under his lips, igniting a hot glow in his groin. Fuck keeping some distance. There was too much pleasure to be had here. He would seize and relish it while he could.

  Belmont shed his shirt and peeled off his undervest, leaving his pale torso exposed. Jody explored every inch with mouth and hands, the satin skin stretched over trim muscle and a strong rib cage. Every time Belmont moaned or wriggled, Jody’s erection grew a little harder. He must close his eyes and breathe to rein in this mad lust, or he would explode all over Belmont’s fine carpet the moment he took his trousers down.

  He looked up into Belmont’s wide eyes, half-lidded as he caressed Jody’s hair and touched the side of his face. “With you mostly clothed and me half naked, this feels so…”

  “Good?”

  “I was going to say ‘decadent’ or ‘wicked,’ but ‘good’ covers it as well.”

  “Shall I continue?”

  Belmont nodded as vigorously as a lad offered an entire basket of sweets rather than just one. “Yes, please. That is, if you want to.”

  Did he want to? In the course of his life, Jody had given service more times than he could count. Occasionally for personal satisfaction, but many times to gain something he needed: food, shelter, money, trust. Yet his seduction of Belmont was not about winning anything other than the dawning expression of surprise and joy on the man’s face when he came. Jody could feast on that look.

  He unfastened Belmont’s trousers and removed his shoes, socks, trousers, and undergarment. At last, Belmont stood before him naked from head to toe and shivering in anticipation, chill, or embarrassment. But if the man was nervous, he did not drop his gaze. Instead, he squared his shoulders and stared right into Jody’s eyes. “I feel rather a fool,” he admitted.

  “You don’t look like one. Your body is very pleasing. Let me show you how the sight of it inspires me.” With that, Jody took up the task at hand, gripping Belmont’s cock and never breaking eye contact as he swallowed it from tip to base.

  He earned a long, low groan for his effort. Belmont thrust slightly and swayed as if his knees might buckle. Jody continued to roughly stroke and suck his cock and gently cradle his balls, whipping desire until Belmont’s breath grew ragged and he started to murmur, “Please!”

  Only then did Jody guide him back a few steps and push him to collapse on an ottoman. The footrest was larger than most chairs in Shoreditch and upholstered in a tapestry of colors that made it a work of art. The furniture looked even better when decorated with a naked man.

  Jody moved between Belmont’s sprawled legs and bent over him once more. Belmont’s flesh tasted earthy yet clean and filled his mouth with its solid girth. Jody watched the results of his treatment on his lordship’s face. Resting on his elbows, his back arching with pleasure, Belmont closed his eyes as he rode waves of sensation. Suddenly, his eyebrows rose and a cry issued from his parted lips.

  “Oh! I’m going to…” Belmont tried to pull away.

  Jody held his hips firmly and received his cum. Only when the last spasm had passed did he let go.

  Belmont exhaled. “Good Christ, that was… Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” Words Jody had used often in the past, except this time, he actually meant them. He wiped his mouth and chin and sat back on his heels to regard Belmont, who smiled dazedly as if he’d been handed the moon.

  At length, Belmont drew a shaky breath and spoke. “Come to my bedroom and let me do the same for you.” He scrambled up and extended a hand.

  Jody took it and continued to clasp it as Belmont drew him to his feet and led him upstairs. Nervous anticipation made his heart pound as if he were a virgin about to be taken for the first time.

  Belmont opened his bedroom do
or and ushered Jody inside. Jody noted the water-stained, peeling fern-patterned wallpaper, the worn Oriental carpet underfoot, and a dark wooden wardrobe quite at odds with the bed that dominated the room. While most of the room spoke of centuries past, the beautiful creation constructed of golden wood with sweeping curves and fine carving signaled its modernity. A man could truly sprawl on such an accommodating, luxurious piece of furniture.

  Jody quickly shed the rest of his clothes and flopped onto the most comfortable mattress he’d ever experienced. He stretched out on his back and watched while Belmont crawled onto the bed between his spread legs and took hold of his cock.

  Jody had experienced anonymous sex, fierce and dangerous sex, sloppy inebriated sex, rushed and painful sex, even boring and listless sex. But he’d never had a man take hold of him with such deep concentration and swallow his length while regarding him with such intensity. Belmont’s eyes said: This is all about you. Not your cock or your body, but you. You and I are sharing this moment together.

  Usually, Jody closed his eyes to block out his partner to retreat into a sexual fantasy that would efficiently get him off. Belmont challenged him to remain present, experiencing an intimacy beyond anything he’d ever known.

  Jody took the dare, locking gazes with the man and breathing in time with each swell of pleasure. His buttocks tensed and his hips rose into the other man’s hands and mouth—a sensual pushing glide and powerful sucking retreat. As tension mounted, Jody struggled not to squeeze his eyes closed and dissolve into his own mind. Belmont’s relentless brown gaze filled his vision, gripping him and lifting him. The purest opium was not better than the wave of ecstasy that transported him up and out of his body.

  Jody watched through a thin veil of eyelashes Belmont’s lips engulfing him and his throat moving as he swallowed Jody’s essence. Still the man would not let go, his gaze penetrating Jody to the very core.

  He felt stripped raw. Surely Belmont could apprehend all the ugly, dirty, wrong things he had ever done. Along with the climactic blaze of joy, a surge of self-loathing swept through him. Jody was not the glorious creature Belmont’s eyes proclaimed him to be. He was a dirty, lying, manipulative hustler, who cared not a particle for any man nor they for him. Unable to stand any more scrutiny, Jody shut his eyes at last and retreated into the comfort of darkness.

  When the last spasm of climax passed, Belmont laid Jody’s depleted cock on his belly and stroked it softly. He moved up the bed to give Jody a cum-tasting kiss before nestling his head on the pillow beside him. “Did you enjoy it. Did I do all right?”

  Jody merely nodded, his emotions too gnarled in knots for him to manage a reply. But his stomach answered for him. He hadn’t eaten yet that day, and it announced its irritation with a low rumble.

  Belmont smiled. “Are you hungry? I’ll go down to the kitchen and put something together. Wait here.”

  Jody croaked, “Are you sure?”

  “You sound thirsty as well. Relax here. Do you like hot chocolate? Of course you must. Who does not?”

  Don’t leave a stranger alone with your possessions, you fool! Jody shouted as Belmont left him with another kiss and a mind filled with birds beating their wings against his skull.

  What sort of idiot trusted a man he’d met only the day prior, invited him into his bed, and gave him free run of the house while he trotted all the way down to the kitchen? This would be the perfect opportunity to case the place and learn the layout of rooms. He might even nick a few tiny items. But this was a long con. It would be stupid to greedily grab those silver cuff links lying on the chest of drawers and possibly ruin his chance for a much larger score.

  Therefore, when Belmont returned many minutes later, Jody had not moved from the bed to prowl the second story.

  Belmont set a serving tray across Jody’s lap and sat across from him on the bed. The titillating scent of chocolate rose from a steaming pot. An array of bread, meat, cheese, and biscuits filled a platter. With graceful hands, Belmont poured from the pot into two delicate china cups and offered one to Jody.

  “Go ahead. Eat something,” the lord encouraged.

  Jody didn’t need a second invitation to gobble a quickly made sandwich or devour several macaroons and little sponge cakes he believed were called lady’s fingers. The rich beef and cheese filled him, and the sugary treats melted on his tongue. He savored every bite, and then his belly expressed its pleasure with a belch.

  “My goodness! You were hungry. With all that rowing, I shouldn’t be surprised. Would you like something more substantial than this?”

  An even heartier meal sounded good, but Jody did not want to interrupt the warm, comfortable picnic for two in Belmont’s luxurious bed. He could happily stay here for a very long time.

  “This is sufficient, thank you. Tell me, how are your orchids doing today? Has the bud you showed me bloomed yet?”

  “Yes, overnight, and it is a perfect specimen of Cattleya, a variety of orchid that hails from the Argentine. But it is my hybrid of the black Faberi and spotted Phaelenopsis I’m most eager to see. That blossoming will not occur for a very long time, presuming the plants survive to adulthood.” He blew across his teacup before sipping cocoa. “Enough of my hobby. What is your favorite pastime?”

  Jody had not come prepared with a topic. He swallowed scalding chocolate and tried to imagine something a gentleman might do. Stamp collecting? Bird watching? Hunting?

  “I admit to having no strong interests such as yours. I suppose I must name reading as my hobby. Most recently, I have enjoyed Kipling’s stories.” In fact, he had gleaned all his knowledge of India from them. “Have you read his books?”

  “I read The Jungle Book when it was first published. As a citizen of India, do his stories ring true?”

  “Minus the thrilling adventures with robbers and wise animals, I would say he does depict the subcontinent quite well.”

  “You mean to say you’ve never found a hidden temple with gems as large as hens’ eggs?” Belmont teased.

  “Sadly, no maharishi’s crowns. No riches beyond the mica from my family’s mines.”

  “And now, possibly, gold.”

  The turn in conversation provided a perfect opportunity for Jody to resume his mission. The sweet chocolate taste on his tongue turned sour. “Our prospector discovered indicators of a gold seam, but the cost of tunneling would stretch our resources. Investors are an unfortunate necessity for this sort of exploration.”

  Jody had learned as much as he could about mining by talking to a drunken, crippled Cornishman who’d spent most of his life underground. But the process of blasting and tunneling in India might be completely different. Likely his mark would be ignorant and never question the validity of Jody’s documents once he saw them.

  “May I ask what sort of indicators?” Belmont tapped excess coconut off a macaroon, then popped it into his mouth.

  Jody recited what the Cornish miner had told him. “Acidic minerals such as gold bleach area rocks to a lighter color. Also, large amounts of iron oxide in an area can indicate its presence. Veins are usually found along with quartz, but quartz is located in many places where gold isn’t, so… You don’t want to hear all this boring science.”

  “I’m fascinated. Go on.”

  “Well, trace amounts of gold were found in a stream which emerges from a fissure in two rock faces of dissimilar types. That’s a strong indicator. We might tunnel in and find a vein hardly worth the effort, or…” He paused for dramatic effect. “We might just find those riches you mentioned. Gold fit for a king.”

  “That is exciting. May I look at the prospector’s report?”

  “I doubt you’ll understand all the jargon. It’s quite dull.”

  “If you don’t wish to show me, I understand. Confidential information and all that.”

  “No. I trust you. But…” Now Jody told the absolute truth. “Honestly, at this moment, I’d prefer not to think about business. I’m quite content simply lying here with you, dr
inking chocolate and eating these marvelous biscuits.”

  Belmont grinned. “You’ve nearly cleared the plate. Are you sure there’s nothing else I may get for you?”

  “There is.” Jody gave a scorching look and moved the tray off the bed. He reached for his bed partner. “Come here.”

  Belmont moved into his embrace and pressed close to his body. Warm and snug under the covers, they kissed and nuzzled one another’s necks and shoulders. Belmont smelled sweetly of soap and tasted salty from exercise. His tickling kisses made Jody squirm and laugh.

  Then Belmont murmured something that froze the heated blood in Jody’s veins. “I’ve never felt this way about a man before. I wish your stay in London were longer. It is a shame to discover something so wonderful only to have it end in a week or so.”

  Jody swallowed before coughing up a reply. “I feel the same, but we’re here now. Let us snatch our brief crumbs of pleasure while we may.” He pushed Belmont onto his back and began to roam hands and mouth down that warm, muscular body.

  A touch on his head stopped him before he could apply mouth to cock. “Not quite yet. Come up here with me, please.”

  Jody returned his head to the pillow and his gaze to Belmont’s profile.

  “I just wish to say that I…I’ve met men in public before: the churchyard, a park. You know the sort of places one goes to dally.”

  Jody nodded. He knew those places very well.

  “But the experiences were cold and distant. A quick tug or suck offering some relief, but they seemed no more than a handshake, there was so little emotion involved. Sometimes these fellows asked for money, and I was happy to give it.” Belmont gestured back and forth between himself and Jody. “Beginning a friendship with you and inviting you into my home is so much better. I’m very glad we met, Wentworth.”

  “Please, call me Toby.” Jody wished he could give his real name.